Demons Deep Inside Me
by splash1998
Summary: Edward's memories of those ten years he spent away were hard to cope with. There was the wall that hid those horrible memories, that swayed backwards and forwards, but always stayed up right. But if and when that wall falls, Edward isn't Edward any more, and his demons would consume the broody Edward everyone knows.
1. Chapter 1

**First Twilight story so I apologise if it's not very good. **

**Summary: Edward's memories of the first ten years of his life were hard to cope with. But when he suddenly starts remembering the terror and horror he caused, can he stop himself from going off the edge?**

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**Demons Deep Inside:**

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**Chapter one:**

The memories at the back of his mind were dangerous; the wall that was blocking them from the rest of his mind was unstable and constantly swaying backwards and forwards. But it always stayed up, saving him from the dark, pitch black terror and horror that he had once caused, saving him from loosing the self he had created.

He had spent ten years, ten _foolish _years, being that hideous monster that sometimes consumed him. Ten _foolish _years he had spent being the man he had not wanted to be. The killer. The monster. The terror that people ran away from in the night. He had spent ten _foolish horrible_ years away from drinking the only other option, away from draining animals instead of humans. Humans who had lives. Humans who had families. And he had taken them away from that because of that stupid voice at the back of his head.

_Edward, _it would sometimes call in it's deep growly voice that sounded like his when he hunted. It would tell him to do horrible things, tell him to break Carlisle's neck so he wouldn't have to suffer just drinking animal blood any more. Telling him to go out and _take _what was rightfully his. He struggled to fight the voice, but he did, and he would be fine for the rest of the day.

And then sometimes, it would be nice. It would say well done for having such self control. Tell him that he was great the way he was, saving people's lives instead of taking them. But when he let the words wash over him, the words that had a double meaning. _You're still a murderer though._ That was what it would hiss afterwards, when he had let himself kill a elk as a celebratory snack for making his inner self happy. He could never make it happy, ever. It would always be angry. Whenever.

He hadn't let it consume him though. He was still himself. He was still broody, moody Edward, who read the thoughts of others, and drank animal blood, and replayed high school over and over to other people. His family. But inside, he was a darker person; darker then any nomad he had ever met, who didn't care about drinking human blood. He was a monster. His soul, if he had one, was a pitch dark black pit of nothing, and there was no feelings there. Nothing. Just a black space that filled his body up.

His body was frozen. Frozen forever at seventeen. He would still have the same face hundreds of years later when he looks into the mirror, instead of having wrinkles and being old and frail. He would never have children, or grandchildren. He would just be lonely, little Edward.

That was what the voice would call him sometimes. He would whisper it in the dead of the night, when Carlisle was on a night shift at the hospital, and Esme was decorating something upstairs, and every one of his siblings was doing something. It would tell him that he was lonely, no matter how many friends he had and no matter how loved he felt, he was lonely. He didn't have a love, a mate. He had no one.

Perhaps it was easier this way. Too have no one. So that he wouldn't have to tell them how crazy he actually was. How horrible he was. About how he had tortured hundreds of people in those ten years he had spent away from Carlisle. If he had no one, then no one could run in the opposite direction to him when they got scared of him. He wouldn't have to see people turn their backs to him.

It was better this way, when he was alone, with that wall that would sway backwards and forwards but still managed to fulfil its job of keeping the bad, horrible memories out.

It was better this way.

* * *

The greenery was a nice change of scenery from the busy streets of Chicago. The icy wind was refreshing, but didn't do anything to the pale complexion on his face. It didn't bring a red hue to his face like it had done back in the nineteen hundreds, when he was wearing posh suits and his hair combed back. Now, he was wearing jeans and trainers, things that would have certainly been frowned upon when he was younger. Now, if you wore these, you'd fit in more then wearing a black suit with a pocket watch.

Forks was a little town that sat on the edge of the Canadian border. It rained constantly here, which was perfect for himself. When the bright sunlight shone on him, he glittered like a diamond. When the sunlight shone on him, he usually shied away. It was as if the sunlight was a spotlight, making the fact that he was inhuman and a monster stand out to people. But people who saw him like this would flutter their eyelids, the thoughts that ran through their heads were all the same. 'Beautiful'. He wasn't beautiful. He was a monster.

He was too fast. He could out run any plane, any fast car, any train. He was too strong. He could break rock with the flick of his wrist. He could break a person's neck with just a little squeeze. He was too beautiful. His eyes were a topaz yellow, that shone, his face pale, like snow, and as smooth as marble. Even the purple bags under his eyes made him beautiful.

He didn't feel beautiful. He felt ugly. He felt as if he should have big fangs, and claws and be as ugly as a troll. Be ugly so it would force people away. Show people that he truly was a monster. Alice, his sister, had tried to tell him otherwise. Tried to drill in his head that he was a nice, warming and kind person with a gentle heart. She wasn't describing him. She was describing _her_. She was nice, warming and kind. He was a horrible living dead being who could kill anything. But not himself._  
_

Lord knows he had tried. But he couldn't. He didn't drink blood for months, but it just made the cravings come even harder then before, and Carlisle had to lock him in his bedroom while they hunted for him. He tried jumping off cliffs, standing in front of trains...anything! But nothing worked. He was stuck a stupid, horrible, terrible monster, alone with nobody.

He looked up when he pulled up at his new home. Forks. As long as he didn't break, and kept the memories behind the wall, he would be fine. As long as the voice wouldn't hiss at him, he'd be fine.

Hopefully.

* * *

He was playing the piano.

After spending the whole day holding his breath, he needed a release.

Today, going to Forks High School without hunting had been dangerous. With the move and trying to get everything, he and his siblings had not hunted. Everyone was so worried about how Jasper was going to react that they didn't worry about him. They should have. The voice was hissing at him even more. _Take it, Edward. TAKE IT!_ The scents of all those humans combined had hit him as soon as he stepped out of the car. His nose burned as he took a whiff of the sweet scent of blood, along with the thump of the peoples heartbeats, warm bodies that were so naive and vulnerable.

They had stared at him for the whole day; the hormones were dripping off them, creating a sea of trouble for Edward. It was as if he was the shark, and they were the seals bleeding in the water, attracting his attention. Because that was what he was when he was sat in those classes. He was the predator among prey, hidden so no one who know.

Every one in that school should have feared for their lives. They should have ran away from the danger that was him. The monster that was him.

But they didn't.

And so that was why he was playing the piano. Something for him to concentrate on, and not the wall that was swaying dangerously.

Hopefully it would stay upright.

Because if it didn't, nobody was going to like the darkness that would overtake his mind and soul.

No one.

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**Hopefully you liked it. Don't know whether to continue this or not, so...;)**

**If I will, next chapter will be up soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter 2! Thank you for reviewing ThePsychoVamp!:)**

**Here you go!**

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**Chapter two:**

"Edward?" Alice asked him, after the second day of school. "Are you all right?"

Edward read her mind; she didn't suspect anything. She had seen him clenching and unclenching his fists the whole day, seen how he almost broke the table with his fists. If his skin wasn't as hard as marble, he would have thousands and thousands of splinters sticking out of him arm. Alice was just trying to be nice. Be kind. She always had been, ever since they had met. That was just Alice. The tiny, lithe body, with big yellow eyes and a pixie cut haircut.

Esme was the same. She always worried about him. Worried that he was too lonely - which he was, but he would never tell Esme that. He wouldn't want to see her face fall - worried that the blood lust had become too much - again, not that he'd tell anyone, because they'd just give him that look. That look that he knew meant 'Monster'. But that was because he was a monster. He was a heart wrenching monster.

He could reply to Alice saying, no, I'm not. I've had to fight a battle with myself and my self concious, fight to keep that wall up. I've had to see you and Jasper happy, together, while I'm stuck as lonely old Edward. I've had to keep up the pretence that I'm fine for a long time, but really, I'm not.

But he doesn't. All he muttered out was, "I'm fine."

She gave him a disapproving look, the one where her eyebrows caved into her eyes and her eyes scrutinised him. He ignored it, just carried on driving towards home hurriedly, hopefully to avoid any more of Alice's questions. Rosalie and Emmett were too busy looking into each other's eyes lovingly then to focus on the questioning, but Jasper was watching. And now he to was scrutinising him.

Jasper was the one he went out of his way to avoid. Jasper could feel emotions, feel when someone was in pain, or in love, or happy. Edward was in pain, was swamped with guilt, and having Jasper around to feel that, to feel his guilt, just made him feel all the more guilty. He was sure Jasper wouldn't tell anyone, since Jasper was a very private man and would keep everyone's secrets, but it was already one sibling that could turn against him, who could turn everyone against him. Jasper could feel how guilty he was, how dark his soul was. He could give Edward pitying looks, be in denial that he wasn't a monster, that he was a nice, loving man with a big heart. He wasn't. And deep down, Jasper knows that. So, Jasper didn't talk to him about what he was feeling. Which was a good thing.

Emmett never asked him about his life before. His brother was all booming laughs, bone crushing hugs and sexual innuendos. He was careless and carefree, with his heartbreaking smile and big heart. He had never killed anyone apart from threats towards their coven, and even then they were blood sucking vamps. He was nothing like Edward, and Edward didn't want to burden Emmett with his stuff, bring Emmett down from his carefree mood. His _constant _carefree mood. The voice usually croaked out, _kill him, Edward. He's OUR kill. Get rid of that pompous smile, and get him out of here. _He would argue back, until he realised that it was no use; the monster had made up it's mind. He just had to control himself, make sure that he wouldn't kill anyone of his family. He loved them all too much.

Edward pulled down their drive way and wound his way around until he reached the house. There, he turned the car off and took the keys out. He just ignored the pointed looks Alice and Jasper were giving him as he stormed off towards the house, content in finding some kind of mind distracting thing to do. Today, instead of playing the piano, he would draw. Draw anything. Even if he wasn't that good. Something that would distract him from whatever the hell was going on in his head.

The wall at the back of his mind was swaying dangerously. A part of his subconscious had blocked out the painful memories of the 1920's, when he had gone with human blood instead of animal. The memories that sound never be remembered, that he should never think about. The memories that could destroy his very being; turn him black right to his core, where his soul was. Not that it wasn't already black, because he knew it was. Like he always thought, his soul was black, was a bottomless pit of nothing. But these memories would take over all of his brain and turn him into a monster. A horrible, terrifying monster that should never be allowed to come out.

Ever.

* * *

The first memory hit him that night. Over the recent couple of days, that wall was threatening to break, like a dam when there was just too much water behind it. The memory wasn't a big one. Actually, it just made him cringe and flinch. But it was the long run that would scare him. If the memories were starting to come through the wall, what would happen when the wall just collapses all together? His mind flashed back to the memory.

_His eyes were dark; they stood out in contrast with his stark pale skin that was as white as snow. His hat was balanced nicely on top of his slicked back hair, and his hands were clenching the bottom of his bar chair. He glanced around, the burning in his throat rubbing his throat so much that he was choking for breath. His suit was ruffled; his tie hung low around the third button as he stared at his targets._

_First was an old man who had hobbled in earlier. His back was hunched over, and Monster-Edward could smell the booze on him as soon as he had walked through the door. His old, and stained suit jacket was slung over the window seat of the bar, and he was nursing a bottle of Whiskey. There was no wedding ring on his finger, and no tan line from where one could have been sitting, meaning this man was lonely. His face was sad and depressed, and his thoughts weren't that much better. They were jumbled up, going with his drunk stupor, and they were rambles about his dog, not his wife. Sweat dripped down his neck as he popped open a few buttons, exposing his pulse point to the predator he didn't even know was in the room. Edward's finger nails dug into the chair harder._

_The second victim was a young woman. Her hair was curled, and blonde, sitting up top on her head. Her lips were a luscious red, reminding Edward of blood. Her skin was tanned, and she was stroking the chest of a man double her age. Her dress was short and red. Everything about her screamed 'drink.' Edward growled at himself to keep in his chair and not drink this young woman. He had other options, other people he had to consider._

_The third victim was a man, who was holding hands with his wife as he chatted to his friends. Everything about him screamed 'pompous ass', and Edward knew that the bruises on his wife's face was not from hitting herself with the door. His thoughts were mainly about sex; sex with his wife, sex with his assistant, sex with his friend's wife. This man was really a pompous ass. Maybe Edward should have this one, take away his wife's suffering, and the fact that the world would be better off without this idiot. The man's hair was styled just like his own; slicked back, but it was dripping with sweat, unlike Edward's, which had kept due to the fact he could sweat. He had a posh new suit on, an all black combination with a white tie. His hat was on the table next to his beer._

_Edward had made up his mind. Him._

_When the man stepped out to go to the toilet, Edward discreetly followed him. He could hear his heart pumping slowly, he could hear the blood coursing through this man's veins. The pulse just behind that dark tanned skin was pumping. The man's thoughts were focused on the task ahead, unzipping his pants. It was such a shame that he didn't need too._

_Edward pushed him against the wall, his teeth piercing the neck in his favourite spot. The pulse point. It was getting slower underneath his teeth, as he slowly but tastefully drained the man of his blood. He sucked the sweet, coppery tasting liquid in his mouth, quivering in excitement. His hand went up to pull the man towards him more, just as the man opened his mouth in a soundless scream as Edward sucked the last of his life out of him. _

_Edward wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and dropped the man to the floor. The man's blue eyes were wide open, glassy and looking up towards Edward. Edward could feel the heat leaving the man. Edward was satisfied He had gotten rid of a monster. Yes, so maybe he was feeding his own monster, making the voice praise him for his kill, but he had gotten rid of one monster in the world._

**_Good job, Edward. You are one step closer to the monster I want you to become._**

Edward could hear those words still. The growly, unkempt words that branded his soul. He had gotten rid of a monster, and then became one himself. He hadn't realised that Carlisle was in front of him, calling his name until Carlisle grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him.

"Edward?" The blonde male said as he shook him again.

Edward shook his head to get away from the black trying to surround him. "Oh, hello, Carlisle."

"Are you okay? Alice was telling me about today at school. Why don't you hunting with Jasper and Emmett later?" Carlisle asked.

There was a hint of blood on Carlisle's jacket, and it made Edward's eyes go black with thirst. Carlisle looked like he had noticed because his eyes zoomed the the speck of blood that was on his coat.

"Oh, sorry," Carlisle apologised.

Stop being so nice to me, Edward tried to say, but couldn't. His throat was on fire, choking him. The scent of that blood was now in his nose, his head had now memorized that smell so the monster could go and hunt down that poor, innocent human and suck them dry. Because that was what he was. A monster who liked to suck poor, innocent humans dry.

"How about you go now?" Carlisle asked him.

Edward just nodded. He needed it, and _now_.

* * *

Hunting with Emmett and Jasper had always been hard for Edward. They were boisterous, always pushing and shoving and racing, hunting like it was a game. Edward liked to just get down to it; block out the fact that he was killing an animal and imagine it was human blood that he was drinking. He liked to stalk his prey before he launched himself on it. He liked to move leanly, quick like a cat. Emmett and Jasper's movements were hard, quick, and noisy, and scared away most of the prey that Edward had wanted to catch.

He was now on pursuit of a mountain lion. He knew he was nearing the Canadian border, but he had to suck this animal dry. He needed to quench his thirst just that little bit, just so the monster was semi satisfied.

The mountain lion dodged left, just as Edward did, and they impacted. Edward held down the animal was thriving to be free, and dug his teeth into it's neck, nicking an vein which made the blood pour out. He sucked the animal dry of it's blood, suddenly feeling more satisfied then when he was almost sucking Carlisle's coat to get the human blood off it.

He didn't know how Carlisle could stand it. Standing around all that sweet, juicy human blood, watching as it pored out of the cuts and scrapes of a hunter, or a police officer. Carlisle showed very good self control, better then Edward's, Jasper's and probably Rosalie's put together. He could stand to breath normally around human blood. He could stand to breath normally around human blood when he was thirsty. How could he do that? Edward could never imagine working in a hospital. Firstly, he was too young. Secondly, there was just too much blood and he wouldn't be able to handle it. He can't even handle a young girl at school who had fallen over and scraped her knee. A stupid accident that almost sent him crazy.

Edward was scared. That last memory had been vivid. He had remember what had happened, detail for detail. He could remember that the young woman at the bar was going to go home with the man whose chest she was stroking. He could remember the drinking pattern of the old man. He'd take a sip, then spit it back out in the bottle, then sip it again. Edward could remember he cringed. He could remember everything.

Hopefully, he wouldn't remember the worse ones that vividly...

Hopefully.

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**Hoped you liked it :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to the ThePyschoVamp who has reviewed: Your reviews have been so lovely, thank you. Hopefully, I can keep up the good work for you! ;)**

**Here's chapter three. **

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**Chapter three:**

He thought it was time that he stopped going to school for a bit; just a little tiny bit.

The first memory that came to him had scared him. He thought he had blocked out that part of his life, blocked out the horrible terrors on which he had created. His mind had subconsciously built a wall to protect the rest of his clear mind, but after a few decades of black terrors banging on it, the foundations of the wall were cracking. He had been expecting it; but not this soon.

Yeah, maybe in a few more years or so. He wasn't expecting it to happen now, now, of all times. Esme was already worrying about him being lonely - thanks to Alice who had told both their parents about his moody, broody mood - and if he started acting even more off. God knows, maybe even starting to go back to his old ways.

Those memories behind that wall should never be remember. Especially not by him. They could make him do the most terrible things. But hopefully, that one poxy little memory was all that was coming through.

He had been saying hopefully a lot recently; and he was starting to loose his trust in the word.

* * *

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

The heart of the girl next to him was going crazy, as she looked at the test the teacher had just giving them. She was nervous, by the way she was twiddling her pen in the most annoying way, and the fact that her heart was going wild. Sweat was dripping down her neck slowly, small little beads that made her scent even more delicious. It was almost as if the vein in her neck was pulsing on purpose; as if it wanted him to take it.

He had taken this test before. He knew that answers. He was glad that he had something to take his mind off the sweet, delicious scent of the blood in the room. That vital substance that pumped through all of the pupils and students here. Well, not all of the students, himself as a prime example. He started to focus on the history test in front of him, concentrating harder then he usually would.

The girl next to him had brushed her hair back so it now hung down her back instead of in front of her neck, like a protective sheet of amour from the monster. Her pale neck was standing out, and he couldn't help but imagine drops of red slowly dripping down that neck as she took her last breath. His hands clamped over the table, and his teeth were grinding together so loud he swore the girl next to him - her name was Jessica, he found out when he read her thoughts - could hear him.

It didn't help the fact she kept sneaking glances at him. Her hormones would sky rocket when she looked at him, soft little glances that no human eyes would be able to catch. Her hormones would make her sweet flowery scent strong, sending waves of the stupidly sweet odour towards him.

_Seventeen minutes._

He hadn't been breathing for seventeen minutes. He still moved his shoulders up and down so it looked like he was breathing, and every so often opened his mouth as if to exhale, but he wasn't breathing in so much as a whiff of oxygen. He wouldn't _dare_. If he did, he was putting the whole school at risk.

The hunting trip with Emmett and Jasper had filled a hole; a little tiny hole. It had soaked up some of the hunger for now, but he had a feeling that he would have to go later with Alice and Rosalie. Alice, he didn't mind. Alice hadn't caught on to Jasper's hunting habits, and moved gracefully and quietly through the forest so she could catch her prey. Rosalie, unsurprisingly, was just as boisterous and joyful as the boys when hunting. Usually, Alice, Edward and Carlisle would go, occasionally Esme, but she preferred to just go with Carlisle on their own. Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett kept to themselves. They had spilt themselves up into quiet hunters, and loud hunters.

He had finished the history test now, and had taken to arranging the pencils on his desk. The green was first, then the aqua, then the light blue then the dark blue. His grey pencil was underneath them, length ways. The black ball point pen that he had been using was lay out just at the top of his straight test paper. Everything was just right. Apart from him.

There was a thorn stuck in his side. Figuratively speaking, of course, his skin was so hard that any poor thorn that attempt to make it's way into his body would snap and die. The figurative thorn that was stuck in his side was itchy, scratchy, but he made no attempt to itch or scratch it. It was the need. The need for soft, warm, gooey blood that was travelling through veins and arteries, teasing him with the sound of it. He could feel the heat swapping off all the people in the room.

He couldn't wait until lunch time, so he could finally breathe again.

* * *

Edward didn't know what it was about the forest that calmed him. He hunted here, hunted down his prey and let the monster take over so he could, but he could feel the utmost calm here. Maybe it was the colours, the contrast of green with brown for the evergreen trees. Maybe it was the auburn twinge that most of the leaves had; the right ratio of yellow, to orange, to brown. Some were torn with holes in on the forest floor, scattered from when he had blown in like Hurricane Edward. Maybe it was the way he could act out here; he could act who he was, he didn't have to hide. Up here, the sun shone down directly on the tall trees, and separate beams beamed through the gaps in the tall trees. He glittered like a thousand diamonds. He didn't have to act.

He breathed in the smells of nature; the soft smell of the damp forest floor, the smell of the leaves falling from the trees at the first signs of autumn. It made him relax ever so slightly, let his guard slip down ever so slightly. He was now alone. He wasn't in a cramped classroom where there were thirty or so horny teenagers that smelt so _divine._ He breathed in and out deeply, enjoying the fresh air before having to go back.

His siblings were probably wondering where he was. Usually, he would sit with pretend food in front of him, holding his breath as he moved his shoulders and blinked and did all the natural things a human did while talking. It was a lot of effort, as well as trying to ward off cravings for blood. He decided he needed a break. A well needed break.

He carried on walking, just enjoying the scenery. His mind was completely at rest. There was no voice there telling him what to do; no haunting memories that were looming over his mind, threatening to crash across his mind. He was cool, calm and collected, and the forest was the only place that could manage to do that. Sure, he was thirsty, and he knew that half of his mind was begging him to quench that thirst, but the other half was telling him to go and explore, to forget about that part of him for now. So he did. He gave into the rational part of his mind for once.

The first sight of the meadow was beautiful the long tall grass almost reached mid thigh, and the purple blue flowers almost reached that height. It looked as if nobody had been here in a while, the way the trees had obviously overgrown separate entrances to this wonderland. Birds chirped and chipmunks ran along the branches, but his eyes weren't on them. His eyes were taking in the wonder that was this meadow. He ran his fingers along the tree right in front of him, feeling the bark beneath his marble cold fingers.

And, for the first time in a long time, he smiled. A real, nice smile.

He lay down in the tall grass, disturbing its sway in the wind, and making a Edward shaped patch in the grass. His fingers went to touch it as he was suddenly fasincated by something he had seen so many times before. His eyes were looking up into the dark sky, expect the sun that shone brightly down on him as if it were a spotlight, pointing him out to the world. He was the only thing wrong in this beautiful picture; but he simply didn't care.

The buzzing of his phone brought him back to the real world, and he looked to see who it was. Alice. Knowing she was probably going to tell him the bell was going to go soon, and ask a lot of questions about why he took off and where too, he ignored it, and lay down.

He should skip the rest of school; give the teachers and students a rest from fearing for their lives. He should skip school for the rest of the week with the way his memories were coming back. But instead, he sighed, grabbed his backpack, and ran his way back to school, enjoying the fresh air while it lasted.

He was back to square one. In a classroom.

* * *

Later on that night, Esme had pulled him aside.

"Alice said you took off today at lunch," She said. She smiled at him, reassuringly. "Is there something wrong, Edward?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Esme asked, her voice filled with happiness even though she was concerned and obviously did not believe his very convincing 'I'm fine'.

"I'm fine, Esme, honestly," He replied. He even cracked a smile to reassure her there was nothing wrong. Well, there was, but she didn't need the extra worry.

Esme just smiled. "As long as you are sure you are fine."

"I am."

And that was it. She had spent the rest of the night up in the study with Carlisle, while he did some paperwork that he had brought home from the hospital.

Alice had told on him. Told that he was broody and moody, and that he was taking off in the middle of school and coming back with only minutes to spare. She was onto him, just like Esme and Carlisle. He stood from where he was seated on the couch, and made his way to the the slick black grand piano that was placed strategically by the window, so he could see the trees from where he was playing.

Reaching for the keys, he started to play. Playing anything that came to his mind. He played Esme's song just to please his surrogate mother, just so she wouldn't bother him, and when he had gotten a smile for his efforts, he knew he was safe. All he had to do was get out of the grasps of Alice, and Jasper, maybe, and he would be fine.

If only it was that simple.

* * *

It was the dead of the night, and Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper were all laughing and goofing around downstairs, while Esme and Carlisle sat and watched. Edward, however, was up in his room, listening to the soothing tunes of Clair De Lune, by Debussy, and reading Great Expectations.

The laughing and the goofing around stopped when Esme had told them to ssh down so she could talk. He could hear them as clear as day; they had obviously forgotten that he was in the house.

"Have any of you done anything to Edward recently?" She asked them. He could see her now, her eyes roaming the room, looking for a fault.

Emmett was the first to answer. "I haven't done anything." He hadn't, it was true. He always had failed to notice that there was anything wrong with Edward in the first place, not that Edward minded all that much.

Rosalie was next. "I haven't spoken to him since yesterday. He doesn't seem off to me." She was just the same as Emmett; the only difference was that he wouldn't want Rosalie to be poking through his business anyway.

Carlisle was next to comment. "He was really thirsty when I came in two days ago with a speck of blood on my coat, like his eyes went black with thirst and he couldn't talk, but, I don't know..."

Edward could hear Alice's nod. "I haven't done anything, really. I mean, he was in a broody mood when we were on our way home one day, and I asked him about it, but he said he was fine. But I know he isn't. Something wrong."

He could hear the thoughts. Everyone was waiting for Jasper to speak up; the one who could feel emotions, the one who could tell them most of the answers.

"Nothing's really changed with his emotions," Jasper finally said in a cool voice. "Maybe from the odd guilt trip now and again, but we all have that."

He made a reminder to thank Jasper in some way. Jasper could have said that Edward was feeling so much guilt that he could drown in it. He could have said about the way he felt horror come off Edward after Edward remembered his first memory. But he didn't. And for that, Edward was thankful.

"So, how do we find out what's wrong?" Alice brought up the million dollar question.

"Carlisle?" Esme asked the one Edward looked up to the most.

Carlisle sighed. "I will try, but if he has refuse to talk to the two of you about it, he definitely isn't going to talk to me about it."

Carlisle was damn right. No way was he talking about his problems.

Hopefully, they'd leave him alone. Hopefully.

Hopefully, that one memory was the last.

Hopefully.

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**A bit short, but hope you liked! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews you gave me. Sorry its been so long. Hopefully, it will start up again and it will be regular updates.**

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**Chapter four:**

He was starting to use the word hopefully too much; soon, the word would have no meaning, just like the words in this fashion article he was reading of Alice's. He didn't really want to read the article – Alice had been prattling on about how black is the new grey, or something, and got on his nerves so much, he gave in.

It distracted him though, and for that he was grateful. As long as his thoughts were off _that_, his family, and himself – mainly, had nothing to worry about. Just as long as that dangerously swaying wall stayed up. Just. As. Long.

It could be seconds.

It could be a year.

Maybe a decade.

Maybe not.

Who knows?

He certainly didn't.

And it wasn't like he could go straight to Alice with his problem, because she couldn't see the mental part. All she could see if evil, monster Edward; red eyes, sucking innocence people's blood, hunting down innocence prey. So, of course he could go to her with this gut-wrenching problem – that would just drive her away.

He just needed to stop thinking about it.

And reading that damn article.

* * *

_"Please, stop!" the girl's voice was high pitched, but it was hard to tell because of the way she was screaming. Her blood was a strong taste; copper and iron with just the right amount of sweetness to last Edward a life time, and he gulped down the delicious liquid._

_ Her heart beat was getting weaker, but he could hear it pounding through her skin, it's every beat bouncing off his skin as if someone was bouncing a ball off a wall. Her blond hair was everywhere, but was swept to the side as Edward drank and drank and drank…_

_ He couldn't stop. He wanted more. Her friend was beside her, frozen in the sheer terror of it all. Her mouth fell open to scream to, but Edward had already dropped her best friend to the ground and started ripping open her neck, his teeth searching to try and find the right vein to drink from. _

_ And he got it._

_ His prize was the delicious taste of her blood. He could hear her terror through her thoughts, her saying her last goodbyes in her head to her family. He was to busy draining her to feel guilty about all the people that would loose this woman in front of him, to busy sucking up all the vital liquid that kept her alive. _

_ Edward stumbled back when she pushed, his mouth still latched on to her pretty pale neck, and he accidentally kicked the stomach of her best friend. Suddenly remembering something._

_ That was two meals in one hunt._

_**Bargain, **__that evil voice that growled softly normally was now loud and caused a pounding in his head as he sucked the last drops of the woman. _

_ He dropped her dead weight. Her body hit the ground like a dead fish. His smile was the biggest smile he had ever worn._

_ His next task: bigger meals. _

_ The voice and monster deep within wasn't fully satisfied. He need to satisfy it. _

The memory had caused him to loose his breath. He could still taste the silky smooth blood in his mouth; the feeling of the dead weight in his arms and he smiled evilly. He could still remember the pride he had when the voice had told him how proud he was of him.

He should have felt guilty.

He didn't. That night he had moved onto another bar, another street, another town, and had hit on two girls there. Later, he had sucked there blood as well.

That was two memories in one night. This wall had cracks in its foundations. Soon, there would be no wall. And that was never meant to happen. Not now.

Not ever.

* * *

Carlisle had talked to him when he came back from his third hunting trip in four days. Usually, before the wall had started its need to sway, he would hunt once or twice a fortnight. Now? He was hunting four times, maybe even five in about a week.

It was obvious that Carlisle was worried; Edward tried to imagine himself in Carlisle's shoes before the voice growled at him, telling him to the get that thought out of his head right now. The rational side of Edward's brain had tried to put up a fight; tried to fit the evil, but he had no such luck. Suddenly, his mind was filled with possibilities of how to get rid of Carlisle, and then everyone in his family.

There was something wrong with him.

Carlisle had agreed to – the way he stood before him, telling him to maybe head down to the Denali for a few days, just to detoxify himself and make sure he was okay to live in society. Carlisle hadn't worded it that way, but Edward read between the lines. He knew what it meant.

'You're dangerous'. 'Leave before you hurt anyone'.

And he would. And hopefully come back a better person, and his mind in the right place.

Hopefully.

* * *

Tanya and Kate were waiting for him when he had gotten up there; Tanya with her sickly sweet baby smile and strawberry blond hair, and Kate with her beautiful blond hair and yellow sparkling eyes. Both had greeted him with politeness he didn't deserve, and he had nodded in response before heading off to his allocated room and stayed there.

For a week.

He hadn't fed for a week. The hunger was intoxicating, and he had found himself nearly snapping the bedposts the few times Eleazar asked him to go hunting.

Before, when he had made the crazy decision to not feed, he hadn't really thought it through. Now, apart from occasionally thinking about Forks and Esme, Carlisle and his siblings, he was almost constantly thinking about blood. The gooey sweet thickness of it, how it ran down his throat as easily as water had once done. Nothing could stop him from thinking about it.

Irina had come to talk to him about something, but he hadn't been paying attention, just staring at her glossy pale neck, thinking about how nice it would be to rip it apart. How it shined slightly when it hit the light in a certain way. How it twinkled like thousands of little diamonds.

He had come to see his fascination with necks just about a week ago, when he was almost caught staring at this one girl's neck. It was in Chem; and the autumn rain had almost started, letting one or two drops go. This girl had come in late, soaking wet. As she shook herself off, a raindrop ran from her hair onto her neck, magnifying it to the monster within Edward. The table had nearly cracked under the weight of his fingers, and it certainly creaked in protest.

"Edward," A sweet voice broke through his daydream. "Oh, Edward."

His head shot round to Carmen, who was standing in the doorway. "We're going hunting again. I could bring something back for you if you don't want to come out."

He nodded a thank you. She stood with her arms folded over her chest; distinctively reminding him of Esme and the way she tried to be stern. He known that Carlisle had talked to Carmen and Eleazar about what was going on, and it was obvious Carmen got it better. She had made the right decision not to ask him along. He shouldn't be out.

Ever.

Not until the wall stop swaying.

And hopefully, the wall stayed up.

He was really over playing the hopefully.

* * *

The memories were coming back more.

Painful, hurtful ones.

He had blacked out yesterday. Hadn't remembered a thing past six in the evening. It was starting to worsen. Suddenly, he wasn't just a vampire with issues. He was a vampire who was consuming the issues, using them to drive him. And he was slowly loosing the control to his mind. The rational part still lived, but it was slowly dying down just like the human part of his brain. Suddenly, the voice started acting up again, asking him to do this, and do that. Hurtful things that should never be done.

Yesterday, the memory wasn't all that bad. It was the blacking out part afterwards. Eleazar had told him that he had mainly stayed in the library, but had slipped out about an hour before midnight for two hours. There was only one dangerous question.

What had he done during that two hours?

He could have done horrible things. Given in to the voice in his head, telling him to suck that girl dry, or that man dry. Telling him it was the right thing to do when it wasn't. The murdering of innocent people wasn't the right thing to do. The right thing to do was to finally admit he had a problem.

But after he had drank the animal blood Carmen handed to him after his memory, the rational part was gone, and came back the voice, telling him he couldn't tell.

So he didn't.

He didn't know what it was; every time he went to pick up the phone to tell Carlisle that he really did need help, something shut off in his mind, and he totally lost the train of thought.

And it was replaced by the memory. The night he had killed Mrs Jane Rogers of Texas.

_It was during the night; Texas was going through a massive heat wave, and for a vampire who sparkled when in contact with the sun, people would know he was different. _

_ The bar was jam-packed with people; dancing, sweating with the humid air that still hung around. Girls were scattered all around, looking for the perfect man to dance with, maybe even take home. And Monster Edward was in exactly the right place. He smiled in anticipation, and ordered himself a whiskey to keep up pretences. _

_ After he had gotten his order from the bar man, who had to lean over him to get a glass and practically wave around his neck to Edward, he sat and waited. Waited for the perfect woman to walk by, past the exit or to the ladies room. So he waited and waited and waited._

_ She was one of the last people to leave the bar, just after the couple that were practically kissing the life out of each other. She grabbed her coat, tipped her cowboy hat and walked right on out. _

_ Edward followed._

_ He loomed in the shadows like the dark man that he was; the darkness hiding him from the view of his prey. He stalked precisely – he could hear her heartbeat had a normal beat to it, unaware that she was being followed, no, stalked. He was waiting for the right time to strike, waiting for the right time where she wafted her hair over her shoulder, splaying her neck on view._

_ He pounced, his teeth straight away tearing a vein, or maybe nicking and artery, either way, he was drinking and draining her off her blood. Her heart was pounding and pounding now, and it was as if it had suddenly run off because the life left her soon afterwards. Edward just carried on sucking until every last drop was gone, before dropping her body to the ground._

_ The hard concrete ground._

He went to the funeral of that one. She was one of his first kill, when he still had a heart, and still cared. It was before the monster ruled him, before he just went for it, instead of preying and pouncing.

Lord knows what other memories will pop up.

Hopefully, it will stop now, before he blacks out for longer and can't remember what he had done.

* * *

**Hope you like it :)**


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